


Got the moves?

by EBDaydreamer



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-19 00:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11302098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EBDaydreamer/pseuds/EBDaydreamer
Summary: A royal ball in Rose's honour. A dress to make the Doctor's jaw drop. A dance to get lost in. Yes, it would certainly be a night to remember.Fluffy one-shot





	Got the moves?

**Author's Note:**

> It was late and a thing popped into my head

Blimey, she was beautiful.

Well, he knew that already - ‘course he did - but tonight she looked stunning, no radiant. Yes, that seemed the word, he thought as he watched her ascend the scarlet staircase, alone. The Guest of Honour. She had been the one to save the young prince whilst he was preoccupied with local politics, and then immediately befriended his mother, the Queen, afterwards. The Queen was young, around Rose’s age, and unmarried, and her son meant the world to her: of course the pair became friends. This friendship and her heroism (“Now I’m a saint! Wait til Mum hears”) got them invited to the ball in celebration of the prince’s safe return.

He stood in the empty dancefloor by the staircase; they were to lead the first dance of the evening. Technically, Rose was supposed to dance with a member of the royal family, but as the prince wasn’t yet old enough for dancing, the Queen insisted he step in.

So now he stood, in the bright lights of the Arquillia Hall, waiting to dance with his pink and yellow human.

Leisurely, he drank her in. Her hair was swept up simply yet elegantly, and he knew she’d done it herself. A bejewelled rose shaped clip was keeping back one side of her hair, letting her earrings twinkle as it caught the light. Her neck was bare and her bodice strapless, backless and adorned in clear jewels, hugging her nicely. Crap, his hand would be millimetres away from all that smooth, bare Rose skin - he’d have to resist the urge to inch his hand upwards, even by ‘mistake’; to stop himself from pulling her closer.

The fashion on this planet was a reflective fabric that reminded Rose of 80s disco, and though it didn’t make up her whole dress, he could certainly see it dotted on her huge, white skirt. Honestly, the skirt was so big he shouldn’t really have a problem with the desire to have her near: the dress was the perfect barrier! Although it was made to look like layers of fabric, he knew there was actually wiring to hold it out. (He knew because Rose was telling him about her fitting, and his mind did not at all wander.) It went straight out at the hips, the top of the skirt covered by ruffles of the reflective fabric, almost appearing threatening.

But her smile was the farthest thing from threatening. Nibbling on her lower lip, her eyes screamed mischief and excitement. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she lifted her gaze from watching the bottom of her dress to meet his eyes. “Hello.”

“Hi,” he choked out. “You look lovely.”

She cocked her head and asked teasingly, “For a human?”

With a small shake of his head, he took her hand and lead her to the centre of the hall, feeling the rest of the room melt away as he and Rose positioned their hands - one on her waist, one on his chest, two linked together - and he pulled her into his arms. Just as the orchestra picked up the first note, she whispered, “Still got the moves?”

He raised a brow as they began to move. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

Gracefully, they manoeuvred around the dancefloor - the Charbenaya, the dance was called - eyes never leaving each other, shy smiles painting their faces. They’d had but hours to learn the dance, but in each other's arms the steps seemed so much easier.

Time faded along with everything else, and the Doctor didn’t care if they were getting it wrong; she was looking at him with the softest smile that could melt the entirety of Woman Wept in an instance, and he felt himself burn inside, hearts ablaze with affection, walls crumbling under their close proximity.

“Still have the moves, I see?” she teased, under her breath.

He snaked his arm further around her, pulling her as close as the dress would allow. His fingers moved away from fiddling with the ruffles and instead toyed with the top of the bodice, briefly skimming her bare back. Tightening his grip on her hand, he leant closer so his lips were a hair’s width away from his ear. “You doubted me?” he breathed, pretending to be offended.

When he deliberately brushed her lower back he swore he saw her shiver and her breath hitch. She arched back to look him in the eye and was about to say something when the music drew to a close and the audience cheered them and the other officials dancing. He hadn’t noticed they weren’t alone.

Rose let his hand go and shifted backwards, a friendly yet forced smile on her face. “Well then, duties over for the night. We can focus on the buffet now: enjoy the nibbles.”

She turned but he held his grip firm on her waist. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind dancing a bit longer.” He cleared his throat, “If that’s alright with you?”

Her smile shifted to a genuine grin and she re-entered his arms. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

The next song started, and they danced throughout it all, eyes goofy smiles and twinkling eyes. Then they danced through the next song, and the next, and the next, and so on until Rose’s stomach growled viciously. The Doctor laughed and Rose smacked him on the chest, prompting him to laugh more.

“Come one then. Food time for the hungry human.”

They dodged their ways through the crowd to the food table, piling up their plates and finding two chairs in the corner. Rose toed off her shoes with a wince.

“You know, if they were bothering you we could’ve stopped earlier.”

“No, it’s fine,” she insisted, popping a pastry into her mouth. “Besides, it’s not often I’d get you to do that.” She fiddled with her dress. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“I don’t mind dancing with you, Rose,” he admitted softly.

She shook her head. “No, I meant this whole thing. We could’ve just left days ago and avoided everything. I wouldn’t have minded.”

He raised a brow. “Wouldn’t that be rude?”

“Since when do you care about being considered rude?”

“I’m learning!” he pouted.

Rose giggled, and he felt proud to be the one to do that; make her smile, make her laugh. He wished he could always be the one to do that, to do that every day; to wake her up with grins and giggles; to be able to run his hands along gorgeous exposed skin freely.

Yet he was not that person - he could never be that person.

“I like dancing with you too,” she whispered, breath tickling his ear as she swung forwards.

As she leant back, his hand shot out at its own accord to keep her in place. He caught her gaze, which grew dark and hungry as he dragged his hands up her back to her shoulders blades, lingering for a moment before travelling further up to cup the back of her head.

“Doctor?” she sighed.

He replied by pulling her lips to meet his.

Oh yes, he definitely had the moves.


End file.
